


Be Still My Demon Heart

by Slice_of_Apple



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Adorable Eren, Alternate Universe - Demon Hunters, Angst, BAMF Eren, Comfort, Couch Cuddles, Demon Hunter Eren, Demons, Feelings, Fluff, M/M, Marco Reiner Bertholdt Annie Kenny only mentioned very briefly, Modern Era, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Slow Burn, Sweet, all about the romance, fluffy fluff fest, shy boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:34:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25881409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slice_of_Apple/pseuds/Slice_of_Apple
Summary: Jean finds out that demons do exist.
Relationships: Jean Kirstein/Eren Yeager
Comments: 10
Kudos: 89





	Be Still My Demon Heart

Jean wakes up to the sound of unknown voices talking over his head. 

“Who is _this_ , Eren?” a soft voice is saying.

  
“He was with the demon,” answers Eren, a touch of defensiveness in his voice. Jean wonders how Eren knows that Nile (he assumes Eren is talking about Nile) is kind of a jerk.

“So?”

“He got knocked about a bit. Passed out.”

“So?” the voice is sounding less soft and more annoyed.

  
“If I had left him there, he would have been mugged, or worse,” answers Eren, as though that explains everything.

“Did you _zap_ him?” asks the now-accusing voice.

“No.”

“ _Eren?”_

“Well, not exactly,” says Eren sulkily.

“I knew it!"

"It was an accident!" cries Eren.

"Eren, you can’t zap people and then steal them!”

“I didn’t steal him, Armin. I just… borrowed him for a little bit,” says Eren. He adds, as if in afterthought, “He’s so cute.”

“Eren! You’re impossible! I hope he doesn’t have a partner who is alerting the police _right now_ that he’s missing.”

“Nah, he’s single,” says Eren confidently.

“How can you possibly know that?” asks Armin.

  
“He was flirting with the demon in the manner of someone who is currently single and looking for a relationship.”

“I didn’t know you were a dating guru,” mutters Armin drily.

“Actually,” Eren continues, his voice slightly raised, “he should be thanking _me _for saving him from getting involved with a demon.”__

“If you can recall, we were removing the demon from his presence,” Armin points out. “He wouldn’t have gotten involved with the demon.”

“He would have moved on to some other demon.”

This conversation is becoming weirder and weirder. It almost sounds as though they are talking, not about figurative demons, as in villainous people, but rather, literal demons, as in occult beings with supernatural powers. Jean wonders if he is hallucinating.

Eren continues, “Don’t you feel his aura? He must attract demons like crazy. He’s probably always wondering why he ends up with creeps.”

Jean has to stop his eyes from flying open in amazement. This is exactly what Marco is always saying. In fact, he can hear Marco’s voice from just two days ago, after Jean pointed Nile out, asking, “Why are you always pursued by such distinctly unsavory characters?”

“He deserves to be with someone better,” says Eren, as though he is indeed some kind of dating guru.

“Someone like _you_ , for instance?” Armin’s voice is dripping with sarcasm. “A _kidnapper?”_

Silence.

“I’m _not_ a kidnapper. I’m only borrowing him for a little bit _after rescuing him from a demon._ ”

There is a loud sigh, as if Armin has given up. “Well, your borrowed time is up. You know what you need to do.”

“Bring him back? Are you crazy? If I leave him in the park at this hour, he’ll be dead before morning,” says Eren.

“Good point. You’d better take him home.”

Jean lets out a tiny sigh of relief. This surreal conversation is finally moving in a direction that is beneficial to him.

“I’ll find out where he lives,” says Eren.

There is a muffled thumping noise, as if two bodies are colliding.

“No. _No!_ _I’ll_ do it. No copping a feel from someone who’s passed out. That’s assault!”

“Give me some credit! I’m not going to feel him up.”

“You stay back,” says Armin. Jean imagines that he’s holding his index finger out to Eren in warning.

Jean’s body is rolled to the side, and his wallet is taken out of his back pocket. While he does not like this, overall it appears that things are kind of going his way right now; feigning unconsciousness seems like the best course of action. He’s not sure what would happen if these two crazies thought he was awake.

“Let’s see… name is Jean Kirstein. Birthday’s in April, height: 5’ 11”,” says Armin, evidently reading Jean’s driver’s license.

Is that Eren’s voice murmuring, “Eyes: hazel; hair: sexy”? No, Jean must be imagining it.

Armin continues, “Lives at 1280 Willow Road. Let me confirm that it’s his current address.” Keyboard tapping sounds follow. “Yep, that’s it, top floor of a three-story apartment. Hmmm. Cameras on the front and sides of the building.”

“I’ll put his wallet back,” Eren offers casually.

“No! Hands off this guy. You’re starting to gross me out.”

Jean feels his wallet being stuffed back into his pocket.

“Maybe I should go myself,” Armin mutters. Then, more loudly. “No, I have to finish the wrap-up right away. You’ll have to do it, Eren, but I mean it. He has to go directly to his house. No stops. No detours. _No funny business_! I’m putting a full surveillance tap on you, so I’m going to _see_ and _hear_ every single thing you’re doing.”

“Fine,” says Eren crossly. “Just map out the best route for me.”

Jean is picked up more gently than he expects, Eren’s arms tucked around his back and under his knees. Jean flops his head against Eren’s chest.

“I’m watching you,” Armin’s voice calls out after them.

Eren doesn’t answer. Although not particularly tall (shorter than Jean, he thinks), Eren is apparently extremely strong. His breathing is light and easy as he carries Jean, and Jean feels very secure. Eren's heart beats in a steady, reassuring rhythm against his ear. It’s kind of pleasant, the way he’s folded up in Eren’s arms. Eren has a nice smell, too, a bit smoky; it reminds Jean of roasting marshmallows back when he was a kid.

Jean’s a little sad when the brief journey comes to an end, and Eren buckles him into the car. Eren gently positions his head so that it’s facing the driver’s seat. He thoughtfully places a small pillow behind Jean’s neck for extra support.

Eren starts up the car. Ir must be an unusual kind of car because the engine doesn’t make any noise, not even when they are moving. Jean lifts his eyelids up ever so slightly so he can peek at Eren. Eren is sitting in the driver’s seat, one arm loosely stretched over the wheel, the other resting against the car door. Curiously, he is wearing sunglasses, even though it’s dark outside. Jean’s vision is limited from this perspective, but he notices that buildings are whipping past them at an incredible speed. In fact, it’s only a few minutes before they’ve arrived.

After parking, Eren comes around to Jean’s side and unbuckles him. He hoists Jean over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Jean can’t help feeling disappointed that he’s not being carried bridal-style again. He does his best to dangle limply over Eren’s shoulder, hoping that he is successfully perpetuating the illusion that he is unconscious.

Since he’s now facing Eren’s back, he feels free to open his eyes, and he sees that they are approaching Jean’s building from the rear. It’s only when Eren throws what is evidently a grappling hook up onto the roof that Jean realizes how Eren intends to get to Jean’s apartment. He stifles a cry of alarm and does his best to think limp, passed-out thoughts.

Even though he doesn’t want to be, he is hugely impressed that Eren can walk straight up the wall of Jean’s building while simultaneously keeping a firm grip on Jean. Jean wonders why he’s not more afraid. Maybe it’s because he can literally feel the muscles rippling in Eren’s back as he climbs. Soon they are up on the roof, and then sliding in through Jean’s living room window.

Eren carefully rolls Jean off his shoulder and onto the couch, plumping a pillow under his head. He takes off Jean’s shoes and throws Jean’s bed comforter over him. There is a pause, and Jean resists the urge to open his eyes, as he has a strong suspicion that Eren is staring at him. This suspicion is amplified when he feels a fleeting touch smoothing the hair from his forehead. 

A heartbeat later, the door clicks shut, and Jean throws off the comforter and leaps to his feet. He runs to the bedroom window; he can just barely make out a dark figure disappearing into the shadows. 

Jean rubs his eyes, trying to make sense of this extraordinary series of events. He’s going back and forth in his mind as to whether Eren and Armin are part of some weird demonology cult from which he has only very luckily escaped, or if he has suffered head trauma and has imagined the whole thing. He has decided that it must be the latter, given the sheer unbelievability of it, when he notices a note stuck to the fridge:

I know you were awake.

-Eren

Weird demonology cult it is, then. He tears the note off the fridge and starts to crumple it in his hand. Then he stops, smooths it back out again and sticks it on top of his “to do” pile.

The next day is Saturday, and Jean decides to indulge in a much-needed escape from reality by going to the movies. While he likes to go to the movies with friends, he also enjoys going by himself. It’s a way for him to completely relax, to not have to worry about anything except getting lost in what is on the screen in front of him. He finds a seat in the empty last row, so he doesn’t have to be bothered with anyone else making noise around him, and sinks down into what he hopes is oblivion for the next two hours.

The previews are just ending when someone drops into the seat next to his. Jean is a bit surprised to find that he recognizes Eren, despite the sunglasses (in a movie theater!) and the baseball cap pulled way down on Eren’s forehead. Yet he knows without a doubt that the guy who has just silently slid into the seat next to him is Eren.

“Eren?” he asks quietly, to be absolutely certain.

“Jean!” whispers Eren, with exaggerated surprise. “Fancy running into you again.”

“Fancy that,” Jean says weakly.

Eren scoops up a handful of Jean’s popcorn.

“Hey! That’s my popcorn!” says Jean, moving the popcorn to the container holder on the other side of his seat. “Buy your own.”

“Hmm,” grunts Eren, “This is gross. I don’t think it can even be classified as food. I make way better popcorn than this.” Nevertheless, he keeps munching away, merely reaching across Jean to grab another handful as soon as he’s done with the first.

“What are you doing? _Borrowing_ my popcorn?”

Eren slowly turns his sunglasses towards Jean. “I _knew_ you were awake the whole time,” he whispers triumphantly.

“Shhhh,” says Jean. “The movie’s starting.” But he can’t resist murmuring in Eren’s general direction, “Who wears sunglasses to the _movies_?”

Eren shrugs. “They’re prescription.”  


Before the movie ends, Eren is gone. Jean doesn’t feel him get up, there’s no climbing over Jean or the back of the seat. He’s simply not there anymore. He has left behind a few sad wisps of popcorn on his seat. Jean feels unaccountably let down.

As Jean is walking out of the theater, his phone rings. The number is unlisted, and he stuffs the phone back in his pocket without answering it. He’s not in the mood to talk to any telemarketers. The phone rings again, and keeps ringing, until finally Jean answers.

Before he can say “Hello,” Eren’s voice rings out chirpily in his ear. “So, what did you think?

“Think?” asks Jean stupidly. He cranes his head all around to see if Eren is hiding somewhere near him but doesn’t see him.

“About the movie.”

“Movie?” repeats Jean.

“The movie we just saw. What did you think about it?”

“Um,” says Jean brilliantly. “Um.” He wonders if Eren is pranking him. Perhaps this whole thing has been an elaborate prank for a new reality show, and in the future he will be watching himself acting stupid and befuddled on cable TV.

Eren seems to understand that Jean’s brain has melted down. He says, airily, “I thought it was pretty good. It was well plotted, the ending wasn’t wholly predictable, and the dialogue was snappy. Overall, I’d give it a 6 and ½.”

“No way,” says Jean, rising to the challenge. Jean is always up for arguing over movie ratings. “Only a 6 and ½? It was at least an 8. The action scenes were fantastic.”

Jean spends the walk home arguing with Eren about the relative importance of good action scenes. Who knew Eren was such a movie buff?

On Sunday, Jean gets a late coffee. He is just leaving the coffee shop, wondering idly whether he’ll ever see Eren again, when who should walk up and greet him?

“I was just thinking about you,” blurts out Jean, because he’s caught off guard by Eren’s sudden appearance.

“I know,” says Eren.

Jean quirks an eyebrow at him, but Eren doesn’t elaborate.

“Do I really attract demons with my aura?” asks Jean, before Eren can disappear again.

Eren grins at him.

“Do I?” Jean persists. He wants to know. He’s had some time to think about this rather strange assertion, and he wants more information.

Eren says, “Yeah, you do. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news.”

“So, the people I’ve dated in the past, were they demons?"

”  
“At least some of them. Probably most of them.”

“You don’t think I’d be able to tell a demon apart from a human?”

“Unlikely,” says Eren. “Demons have very strong masking capabilities.” He smirks, “You’re just gonna have to live with the fact that you need a nice, strong demon slayer around to protect you.”

“No I don’t,” retorts Jean. “I’ve been fine so far, haven’t I?”

‘Actually, I’ve been wondering about that. It’s hard to believe you’re still alive.” Before Jean has time to think too much about the implications of this statement, Eren adds, “Have you noticed that when things start to get more serious, your… admirers suffer unexpected mishaps? Or simply disappear?”

“Of course not-“ Jean is saying when he stops abruptly, thinking about Reiner’s car accident. And Bertholdt having to go back to Germany to his dying grandmother. And how Annie never called him back after the third dinner date. And Kenny… vanishing. And those are only the recent ones.

Eren is watching his face keenly. “My theory is that once the demon has decided it’s done playing around and is about to get down to business, the business of killing you and eating your soul, that is, another one steps in and gets rid of it.”

“Are you saying I’m some kind of demon _plaything_?” splutters Jean.

“Well, I wouldn’t put it quite like that. You have a seductive aura, that’s all. They probably all keep tabs on you, as well as the other demons orbiting around you.”

“I have a seductive aura?” Jean repeats skeptically, one eyebrow raised.

Eren turns pink. “Well, you do. Ignoring it isn’t going to make it go away.”

“How did I acquire this aura that is unfortunately so attractive to demons?”

“It’s genetic,” says Eren. “It’s probably strengthened over time; these kinds of auras tend to behave that way.”

“Great,” groans Jean. “You mean it’s going to get _worse_?”

The following weekend, Jean decides he wants to go to another movie. Since supernatural creatures are on his mind, he picks the latest vampire flick. He’s not sure why, but he buys a mega size popcorn, with free refills. The theater is more crowded today, even for a 10:30 a.m. show, but he still finds a seat in the last row, with a few open seats around it.

As the opening credits roll, he feels a slight shifting of air. There is Eren, still wearing his baseball cap and sunglasses, dipping his hand into Jean’s popcorn.

“I didn’t know demon slayers got Saturdays off,” he murmurs.

“There’s a lot you don’t know,” says Eren. “Shhh. Watch the movie.”

This time, Eren stays until the end.

As they walk out in the crush of movie-goers, Eren asks, “What’d you think?” He is plainly the kind of person who likes to launch into a critical in-depth analysis immediately after watching a movie. Jean doesn’t mind. He likes to do that sort of thing himself.

“I liked it,” says Jean. It’s a vague response, but Jean isn’t really thinking about the movie; he’s wondering whether Eren is going to walk him all the way home, and how he might feel about that.

“Hmm,” grunts Eren. This gets Jean’s attention, and he focuses on the question at hand.

“You didn’t like it?” asks Jean.

“It was a bit unrealistic, don’t you think? I mean, there’s no way one hunter could kill fifteen class 1A vampires by himself on a moonless night.” 

“Jesus, it’s fiction, Eren. Fiction! Wait a minute. Do you hunt vampires as well as demons?”

There is a silence.

“On occasion,” Eren finally answers.

They are ambling along the sidewalk in companionable silence, Jean thinking that maybe Eren _is_ going to end up walking all the way back to Jean’s place, when Eren abruptly stops. He lifts his head and sniffs slightly, his eyes turning slowly backwards, as though they’re being dragged. He looks for all the world like a big cat sensing its prey. 

“I’ve gotta run,” Eren says absently. “Catch ya later, Jean.”

“What?” Jean is nonplussed. But Eren is already loping away from Jean, turning into a narrow alleyway behind them.

Jean looks around him, at the ordinary street, with all the normal-looking people walking about, busy with their regular, everyday lives. He runs to the alley and peers around the corner.

Eren is walking very quietly, almost tiptoeing down the alley. His muscles look tense. He is walking towards a man standing at the back of the alley, turned away from them. He looks like an ordinary man, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, even on the small side. Jean stifles a gasp as Eren withdraws a large blade, long and thin, with a wickedly sharp point. Where was it even hidden? In his jeans?

Instantly, the man spins around and lashes out at Eren with inhuman speed. Incredibly, Eren blocks him. There is a clash of flying limbs, then Eren is running up the wall – _up the fucking wall_ \- and flipping back around to land on top of the man, crashing them both to the ground. The man changes shape, elongating. He- _it_ \- grows until it is twice the size of Eren. Horns sprout from its head, its eyes flame like volcanoes, and black smoke pours out of them. The demon – what else could it be? - throws huge claws up to gouge out chunks of Eren’s flesh. Eren stops the claws in mid-air and slams them to the ground. He stomps on the creature’s head, kicking it ruthlessly into a pulp. When it's no longer moving, Eren plunges the sword deep into the demon’s body. Jean can’t help but let out a squawk of fear at the sight. Eren looks up at him, distracted by the sound, and Jean is terrified that this will prove to be a fatal diversion. However, by this point the demon is already dead, black blood pouring out of it. A great cloud of steam rises. When the steam blows away, all that’s left of the demon is a pile of ash on the ground.

Eren walks slowly back towards Jean. He’s wiping his blade on a cloth, then sheathing it - where? Somewhere in his back pocket? It doesn’t make sense, none of it makes sense, and the whole thing is so utterly brutal that Jean finds he’s getting dizzy, and…

“Shit,” says Eren, running to catch Jean as he slides to the ground.

Jean is propped up in the alley against the wall. Eren is crouched next to him, flicking his ear and saying, “Wake up.”

“What the hell was that?” asks Jean groggily.

“A demon,” says Eren.

“Bu-but it looked like a man!”

“I told you. They have powerful cloaking capabilities.”

“So you’re telling me that Nile looked like that… thing? That all those dates I went on were with creatures that looked like that? Underneath the cloaking, or whatever it is?”

“Uh-huh,” says Eren. “There are minor variations, but they all have fairly similar features.”

Jean rolls onto his knees and throws up against the wall.

Eren hands him a cloth, and he’s glad to see it’s not the same cloth Eren used to wipe demon blood off his sword.

Jean wipes his face. “All those people- _demons_ \- were going to kill me and eat my soul?”

Eren nods.

Jean groans. It’s a lot to take in. Actually seeing a demon in the flesh, in its true form, is considerably different than hearing about demons in the abstract. He leans his head against the cool of the wall and shuts his eyes, as if he can thereby also shut out the memory of the demon’s horrible face, and in particular its fiery, smoking eyes.

“How can you do that? Move so fast, and stuff?” he asks, clumsily referring to Eren’s remarkable strength, speed, and agility. His brain feels too muzzy for articulation.

“I train a lot.”

“You didn't get like that from training.”

“I’m just talented, I guess.” It’s not really an answer, but Jean can tell that it’s all he’s going to get.

Eren helps him to his feet. Jean can’t help but remember their conversation about movie action scenes, and he feels that now he perhaps understands why Eren doesn’t hold them in as much esteem as Jean does.

Jean is surprised the following weekend when Eren slides into the seat next to him at the movie theater, as though nothing has changed. He also surprises himself by not really caring that Eren is a demon hunter with superhuman demon-fighting capabilities. Because he’s also still the guy who likes to complain about Jean’s popcorn while gobbling it down, and who likes to dissect each movie in excruciating detail as soon as it’s over.

Eventually, they’ve seen every movie that’s out that’s remotely worth seeing, even a few art house flicks. When Jean scours the listings the following Saturday, he realizes that there are no more movies for them to see. He feels strangely disappointed. He picks up his phone as though he is going to call Eren but then remembers that he doesn’t have Eren’s phone number. He doesn’t even know Eren’s last name.

He’s moping around on the couch, trying to read a book, when he hears a soft knock. He’s not altogether surprised to find Eren at his door, carrying a DVD, a large box, and a grocery bag. The bag contains unpopped popcorn, butter, and salt.

“What’s that?” Jean points at the box.

“A gift for you,” says Eren. “An air popcorn popper. Do you have a large bowl?”

“You’re right,” says Jean. “This popcorn is great.” They are on Jean’s couch, watching a political thriller.

“I told you,” said Eren. “The key is to use a whole stick of butter. And plenty of salt.”

They are halfway through the movie when Jean picks up the remote and pauses the film. He wishes he had wiped his hands before doing so because the remote is now dripping with melted butter, like his fingers.

“I was going to call you today, but I realized that I don’t have your number. I don’t even know your last name.”

“Ah,” says Eren. But he doesn’t offer either his surname or his number. Jean feels a little hurt. After all, Eren has _his_ contact information.

“What if I want to tell you something?” he asks.

Eren isn’t looking at him, and Jean thinks he might even be blushing as he says, “I can… feel it when you want to talk to me. Just try asking for me. I’ll find you.”

This clears up something that has been niggling at the back of Jean’s mind. “Is that how you know I’m at the movies? Because, frankly, it’s a bit unsettling.”

“You mean, you think I’ve been stalking you?” says Eren. “Sorry about giving you that impression. Yeah, for some reason you’re kind of… burned into my brain. If I focus, I can pinpoint where you are. I can also feel strong emotions. Or when you might be… happy to see me.” He says this last bit in a small voice, and even in the dim light Jean can see that his cheeks are flaming red.

“Oh,” says Jean. He's not sure what to say, or even how he feels about this information. Instead, he turns the movie back on. However, when he settles into the couch, he swings his feet up, so they’re pressing lightly against Eren.

A few days later, Jean decides to try it out. He’s walking home from work, and he thinks about Eren, and how he’d like to tell him about a movie that’s coming out in a few weeks that he thinks Eren would like to see. It’s a more serious movie, one that Jean himself is not that interested in, but there’s political intrigue, a love triangle, lots of relationship angst, and he thinks it will be right up Eren’s alley. So he imagines Eren’s face deconstructing the plot, that appealing little frown he makes when he’s concentrating. Jean doesn’t think it’s going to work, it can’t possibly work, Jean doesn’t really have an _aura,_ Eren can’t _feel_ his thoughts. But one second he’s walking along the sidewalk by himself, and the next, Eren is walking next to him, as though he’s been there all along.

Jean turns to Eren, his mouth gaping.

“Wow,” he says. He can’t quite believe it. “How did that work? What did you feel?” he asks. He’s very curious as to how this mental telepathy actually operates.

“Well, um,” says Eren, uncharacteristically at a loss for words. His cheeks look a bit pink. “I could feel that you wanted to see me, and that you were thinking about me, in-in an affectionate way-”

“OK, OK, I get it,” says Jean, cutting him off. He’s blushing too, now. This proof of Eren _reading his mind_ makes him feel uncomfortably vulnerable. “Why do you kill demons?” he asks, to change the subject. Sure enough, right away Eren adopts a much more serious tone. "Aside from the obvious killing/soul-eating issue, if we don’t kill them, they tend to take over. Especially once they get into politics. Believe it or not, this city used to be run by demons.”

On Friday night, Marco drags Jean out to a bar with him. Jean doesn’t really want to go, but it’s been ages since he and Marco have spent any time together, and Marco wants to tell him all about his new crush.

It turns out to be not that much fun. A couple of people from Marco’s work are there, including Marco’s crush, who is a woman with shining black hair. Marco spends all his time eating up everything she says. Jean also has an unsettling feeling that he’s being watched, almost like he has a target on his back. One guy in particular keeps following him around the bar and offering him cigarettes, even though Jean doesn’t smoke. He’s taller than Jean, and his red hair has a weird pouf on top, like he’s wearing a cinnamon roll. What’s his name? Flick? Flack? Floch? He’s got a pathetic air to him, like he’s a complete loser, but he’s also staring at Jean in a frankly predatory way. It’s giving Jean the creeps. Jean finally tells Marco he’s going to head out. He has a headache, and he’s thinking longingly of his comfortable couch, and maybe being curled up with someone else on it, watching a movie. Maybe someone who’s wearing sunglasses, and who will give a minutely detailed recap of the movie the second it’s over.

He tries to text a ride service, but his cell phone doesn’t work right outside the bar, so he walks up a few blocks to get in range. He’s staring so hard at his phone, and also thinking a bit about messy brown hair, that he doesn’t hear any footsteps, and all of a sudden Cinammon Roll Guy is right in front of him. In his face.

Jean backs up a step.

“Not leaving without saying goodbye?” says the guy, in his creepy voice.

“Sorry. I’m a bit tired.” Jean isn’t sure why he’s apologizing, but he doesn’t want any trouble. He tries to step around the guy. The guy moves so he is blocking Jean. He seems taller now, and Jean has to tilt his chin up to look at him. Jean’s had a few drinks, and maybe he’s not thinking straight, but the guy’s eyes look a little funny, like they’re on fire or something. And suddenly Jean is absolutely 100 percent terrified.

“I can help you with that,” says the guy.

“What?” asks Jean. He's trying to decide if he should keep backing up with his face towards the guy- the _demon_ \- or turn around and run. And he’s remembering how fast that demon in the alley moved and thinking that it probably doesn’t make much difference how he tries to get away.

The demon is stretching out a hand towards Jean's face. Jean is frozen with fear, he can’t move at all. He knows that this is going to be the end.

There is a patter of footsteps, and the hand is abruptly gone. 

He turns to see Eren going crazy, viciously pummeling the demon into the ground. He's stabbing his sharp sword straight through the demon’s gut, over and over again. He doesn't stop until the smoke envelops both of them.

Jean leans against the wall, shaking. He can’t believe it’s over so quickly. One minute he is about to die, and the next, Eren is standing over a pile of ash. Eren doesn’t look that great, either. He's bent over, hands on his knees, breathing hard. Sweat is dripping off his face. He heaves himself up and walks shakily over to Jean.

“Whew, what a nasty,” says Eren. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

Eren drives Jean home in his fantastically fast car, so it only takes a few minutes. This time he drives with his left hand. His right hand rests against Jean.

“That really freaked you out, didn’t it?” Eren asks, once they are in Jean’s apartment, and he has made them each a steaming cup of hot cocoa. 

“Of course it did. Did you see that thing?” asks Jean, his hands wrapped around the warm mug.

“Yeah. It freaked me out, too. Especially when it was about to touch your face." Eren shudders involuntarily. "Should we watch a movie?”

“Yes, please,” Jean says weakly.

They decide on a dumb romantic comedy. Jean knows it’s dumb, because he’s seen it before, but it seems the perfect antidote to the evening’s events. Eren sprawls out on the couch. He must be really wiped out because he apparently falls asleep right away, although Jean isn't certain he's actually asleep because of the stupid sunglasses. In the middle of the movie, Eren startles up and makes a flapping motion at Jean with his hand. Jean’s not sure what this means, but he gingerly drops down to lie in front of Eren because he sort of wants to, anyway. This is apparently the correct interpretation because Eren’s arm wraps around Jean’s chest, and Eren makes a contented little grunting noise. Jean’s never been much for cuddling when he’s trying to get to sleep, but tonight he likes it. It helps drive the image of Floch further from his mind. The movie's still going, but he falls asleep, encircled in Eren's arms.

When Jean wakes up, Eren is gone. However, by the time Jean has taken a shower and woken up more thoroughly, Eren is back, puttering around in the kitchen. It should be unnerving, how Eren can move so easily in and out of Jean’s place, but somehow it's not. Eren has clearly gone home to shower and change, and his hair is still damp.

“Thanks for saving my life," says Jean.

“No sweat,” says Eren. “That’s my job, after all.” _Was it just because it's your job?_ Jean wants to ask, to shout out, to shake an answer out of Eren, but he doesn't.

Jean stands awkwardly in the doorway, watching Eren prowl restlessly around the kitchen. Eren doesn't say anything else, but he makes no move to leave, either. Jean feels prowly himself, his insides churning nervously. He finally suggests they go get breakfast, because he can’t think of anything else to say, and maybe some food will help settle his stomach.

When they get outside, Jean is relieved to find that the sun is still shining and the regular world exists. The memory of Floch reaching out to touch him recedes in the bright sunlight, and he starts to feel as though he's been given a new lease on life. Eren is whistling softly by his side. Jean has an almost uncontrollable urge to grab his hand, and maybe even tell Eren how he feels about him. He wonders if Eren can sense this, because there’s a definite bounce in Eren’s step; or maybe Jean is sensing Eren’s feelings? Jean can't tell, it's all mixed up inside him. But the bubbly feeling grows until it is spilling wildly out of him, and all of a sudden he can’t wait. Jean is feeling so alive and happy, so effervescent, he has to share these feelings with Eren. He stops and pulls Eren off to the side, into a little nook beneath the overhang of a building.

“Eren,” he starts to say. Then he looks into Eren’s face, and sees his own reflection bouncing back at him off the sunglasses.

He stops, annoyed. Eren has seen Jean throwing up; he’s seen Jean quivering in his boots. Eren can read Jean’s fucking _mind_ , for Christ’s sake. And Jean only gets to see the black plastic mask. It’s like Eren has a shield, and he’s always behind it. So instead of saying what he was going to say, Jean asks, in a sarcastic tone of voice, “Will I ever get to see your eyes, Mr. International Man of Mystery?” He taps on the edge of the sunglasses. “Without these?”

The mood shifts precipitously. Jean instantly wishes he could take his words back. Maybe Eren has something wrong with his eyes, like a lack of pigment, and he needs the sunglasses for protection; maybe he’s self-conscious about the way they look.

“That’s okay, I don’t need to,” Jean says quickly. He wants to go back to the moment just before, when everything was lively and sparkling.

Eren doesn’t say anything. He reaches up deliberately and takes off the sunglasses. At first his eyes are closed, but then he slowly opens them. His fingers are twitching nervously as he looks at Jean.

Jean gasps. Eren’s eyes are green and glowing. They are like twin flares, with smoke rising from the depths. There’s something preternatural in those eyes; something that doesn’t look quite… human. 

“What _are_ you?” Jean breathes.

Eren instantly drops his gaze. It’s startling, how quickly the lines in his face harden, how he closes up.

“Turns out I have a little demon blood in me, too,” he says, in a neutral voice. He starts to lift the sunglasses back towards his eyes. At the same time, he steps away from Jean. It feels to Jean as though Eren is leaving: leaving this little nook, leaving the sunny, brilliant day, leaving Jean’s life. 

Jean’s hand shoots out to grab the hand with the sunglasses. He wants to reel Eren back in. He pushes the sunglasses down, away from Eren’s face. Jean places his other hand below Eren’s chin and gently tilts Eren’s head up. He looks straight into Eren's eyes, those green eyes with drops of smoky fire in them. He can't look away. He’s going to drown in Eren’s eyes; he's going to melt away forever. Jean’s breath catches, and his knees weaken. He falls forward at the same time that Eren leans up to take hold of him. Their faces bump, but off kilter, Eren’s lips hitting the corner of Jean’s mouth. This causes Eren to grab Jean’s shoulder so he can shift him into a better position.

Eren’s mouth is warm and inviting. He tastes sweet, but also spicy, exotic. Jean threads his fingers through Eren’s mass of hair. It’s dry now, and surprisingly soft and silky. It feels so good for Jean to run his hands through the strands, feel them move under his fingers. 

They break apart. Eren’s eyes are wide; he is staring at Jean. Jean unconsciously licks his bottom lip, savoring the lingering, heady flavor. Eren smiles at Jean, a shy, hesitant smile, and Jean smiles back. Jean doesn't know the power of his own smile, how it transforms his thin face, lighting it up from the inside. In response, Eren’s smile deepens until he, too, is beaming.

Eren leans in to kiss Jean again, hungrily. He tugs Jean close.

"Jaeger,” he whispers, into Jean’s ear.

“What?” asks Jean, confused.

“That’s my last name,” Eren breathes. “Jaeger.”

“Pleased to meet you, Eren Jaeger,” murmurs Jean, pulling Eren's face back so he can kiss Eren again. He feels Eren’s lips smile under his, and he feels Eren’s heart hammering against his own chest. Jean can’t contain the bubbling, effervescent happiness, it’s going to blaze up out of him; it's going to flame across the sky.


End file.
